Where The Heart Is
by Mnyqe
Summary: Post-COTG. Members of SG-1 contemplate home. Multiple POV.


**Where The Heart Is**  
  
A _Stargate SG-1 _Fanfic  
_By Sarah  
July 1st, 2003  
_  
  
**Category:**  Episode-Related, Vignette  
**Season:**  One  
**Episode:**  _Children Of The Gods_  
**Spoilers:**  the movie, _CotG, Cold Lazarus, Family, Secrets, Seth, Jolinar's Memories, Threshold_  
**Rating:**  G  
**Warnings:**  None  
**Summary:**  Post-_CotG_.  Members of SG-1 contemplate "home".  Multiple POV.  
  
Author's Notes:  Thanks to my beta-readers, Babs, Barb, NightSpring, Sharon, and UB, for helping me grow in confidence and develop as a writer.  I couldn't do this without you.  *big hugs*  Thanks, also, to Ann, Anne, Dax, Fiona, GSis, Jill, Judy, Karen, Lo, Madeleine, Marcia, Meg, Riz, Rowe, Sally, Sam, Sanna, and Tiv for encouraging me through countless hugs, uplifting words, and steady advice.  Love you all to pieces.  *group bear hug*  
  
DISCLAIMER

Stargate SG-1 and all the characters, etc., are the property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Showtime, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, Sci-Fi Channel and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership.  No copyright infringement intended.  
  
  


  
TEAL'C  
  
Quiet room.  Dark walls surrounding.  Hard as rock, cool to the touch.  Faint light flickers through a mesh in the door.  Voices outside filter in sometimes.  Curt, brisk, impersonal.  Smaller lights inside on the walls, burning softly against the dark. The familiar shape of a table and a bed, two squares on four legs.  A stranger sight low on the wall, off-white and glistening, with silver knobs and an open bowl.  
  
All alone yet an overwhelming presence presses in.  Cross-legged, sitting on the bed.  Head up and eyes open.  Staring out the harsh window of the door.  Others pass by that window, eyes peering in.  The tip of an Earth weapon appearing.  Mistrust and warnings.  So far removed from the dust and gold of home.  
  
Sitting silently, breathing deep.  Calm to the eye.  A bronze sculpture in the dark.  Inside himself, he stills the swelling sense of loss.  Honor lost, pride affronted, heart aching, he steels himself with the strength of his conviction.  
  
Hope is near yet hesitant.  Duty has become chaos.  Home is nowhere.  Through the sweep of pain, the past swirls through his mind's eye.  False gods.  Fallible.  Frail.  Arrogant.  Cruel.  Cries of humans, in death and captivity.  Homes in flames, towns destroyed.  Bodies at his feet.  A wife's questioning voice.  A boy's worshipful eyes.  A mentor, weary of the world, risking all to teach truth.  
  
The serpent within shudders and sighs.  An erotic delight, those images, the terror they've brought.  He takes a breath and stills his mind.  The images fade.  
  
_A promise has brought me here,_ he thinks.  
  
Outside, the guards speak.  Inside, the serpent grumbles.  
  
He remains as he is.  Alone.  
  
  
  
  
SAM  
  
The phone sits on the counter, silent.  To one side, scattered mail.  To the other side, keys and a small purse.  The kettle is steaming in the kitchen beyond; the television is reporting the news.  The last hints of pink are fading from the sky outside, and the streets are mostly quiet.  Emptiness in her house.  
  
Echoes of the last recorded message linger in the air.  A father's voice, wry and patronizing.  Ironic questions and gruff concern.  
  
She leans forward, elbows on counter-top, and stares at the phone.  
  
Military training and personal history warns her.  Her hands push up through short blond hair firmly, pressing in at her temples.  Eyes close momentarily as she sighs, then open slowly.  
  
Yet again she asks herself the same question, and yet again she finds no logical answer.  In a family torn by bitterness and loss, she finds herself in-between her dreams and her kin.  To follow her father, to absolve him.  To find her brother's heart once more.  To put to rest the memory of a mother.  These things she longs for deeply, abruptly pushed aside when terror strikes and duty calls.  
  
And here, now, the vast opportunities of a world beyond anything she had hoped for.  A world that both frightens and fascinates her.  The intricate details of the gate itself, the wealth of planets she had written off.  Science that challenges her mind, technology that baffles her.  A duty and a calling so high, she feels the inner self-doubt stirring, the need to prove herself a match for this enormous world.  
  
It's a moment of revelation and a reason for joy.  And it must remain secret from her kin.  
  
She pushes back away from the counter and takes the kettle off the heat.  
  
Tomorrow, work on the gate continues.  The many destinations Dr. Jackson uncovered must be organized and addressed.  She must talk to the General about the freezing issue; there is a way to fix that, she's sure.  And many other things she must deal with tomorrow, and the next day, and the days following that.  
  
And if she feels lonely... there's always the gate, and what lies beyond.  
  
  
  
  
DANIEL

  
_Footsteps on sand. Breeze pulling cloth. A low, lovely voice laughing. The flash of creamy skin and the shadow black hair against the night.   
  
A fall forward, a soft laugh, and rising again. Thick hair whipping around as the head turns. Brown eyes smiling.  
  
Home is in those eyes.  All the insecurities, all the frailties, they all drown.  Instead of being shy, he is made bold.  Instead of being wary, he is free.  Instead of the loneliness, there is touch.  Instead of the pain, there is joy.  And of all the wonders of the universe, of all the sights he's seen, this is higher than them all.  
  
All of this is here.  
  
It's here in the hands that grasp his, in the smile on her mouth, in the embrace they share.  It's in the way she runs her fingers through his hair.  It's in the way he holds her face.  It's in the way they watch each other sleep.  It's in the family around them, in the sand that swirls in the breeze, in the simple knowledge that home is love.  
  
A flash of light as red as blood.  Home is swept away before his eyes.  Through the shock, through the loss, he sees the glint of metal and sees brown eyes glow._  
  
He wakes in the night, breathless and shaking.  
  
The room is quiet, but for the faint echo of a muffled shout.  Cool sheets in his hands, bunched in taut fists.  Blanket kicked down around his feet.  A clock illuminates the late hour.  Under the door, a thin sliver of golden light.  Curtains at the window sway gently.  Window pane shines coolly in the moonlight.  Outside, high above this world, tiny specks of white in a sea of black.  
  
Slowly, he sits up in the bed and stares.  
  
Despair nudges his heart doggedly.  Hope backs down.  Again the guilt floods him.  Anguish quickly follows.  The world blurs behind the pain.  His head bends down.  Shoulders shake.  
  
There is no soft touch, no soothing voice.  He weeps alone in the silent room.   
  
  
  
JACK  
  
Softly, music drifts through the room, settling on his nerves like a soothing cloth.  In his hand is a bottle, just opened.  His feet are propped up on the coffee table, and one arm hangs over the back of the couch.  His eyes are closed, weary, stinging slightly.  Brown hair, graying slowly, is in a restless array.  
  
Down the hall, Daniel is silent once more.  
  
He contemplates, briefly, going to check.  Yet memories of his own surround his senses.  The past he once buried thrusts back at him too swiftly.  So used to solitude now.  So uncomfortable at its escape.  
  
Exhaustion dogs his mind.  Loss magnifies, and pain intensifies.  
  
Hours ago, a boy named Skaara lived free.  Hours ago, Daniel lived light years away.  Hours ago, an alien warrior lived as a slave.  Hours ago, some measure of closure soothed his life.  Hours ago, he lived alone.  Wistful, lonely, building these walls.  
  
Part of him longs to have it back.  Numbness is appealing, like drops of beer.  In this world, son dies and wife leaves.  Isolation tugs at him.  
  
Yet someone sleeps in his house.  Someone lost and lonely.  Someone insecure and frightened.  Someone who stirs the wary father in his heart, and the gentle brother as well.  Someone with a heartbeat.  Someone with a need for him.  And someone else waits patiently, trustingly.  Someone who made a promise.  Someone he has made a promise to.  And for all the distance between them, someone also hopes for him.  Someone who believes him strong and unbeatable.  Someone young, naïve… God, too much like a son.  
  
He takes another drink from the bottle.  Sets it down.  Rubs his face with both hands.  Heaves a sigh.  Rests his head against the couch.  Narrows his eyes and listens.  
  
He remembers the words he spoke to Daniel.  Remembers the trust of Skaara.  Remembers the look on Teal'c's face.  
  
Down the hall, Daniel is silent.

:.: The End :.:


End file.
